


Harry Potter and the Future Father Fiasco

by Cr0wdc0ntr01



Series: Harry James Rogers Verse [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Famous Potter Luck, Gen, Harry is Steve's son, Long Lost son of Captain America, Prankster's Harry and Clint, Sassy Harry, Scared Tony, Twin Harry and Steve, slight PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2018-12-20 23:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11931699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cr0wdc0ntr01/pseuds/Cr0wdc0ntr01
Summary: Harry Potter, formerly James Steven Rogers, walks into the forbidden forest knowing he will sacrifice himself to buy his friends time to mortalise Voldemort. He has accepted his death and is ready...Until suddenly he is ripped forward in time. To the 2nd May 2012. Where he meets an angry pirate, a world on the brink of war and another Rogers out of time...'Harry felt his eyebrows raising as he looked to the others. “An army from outer space? As in aliens. Really?” Harry asked humor leaking into his voice despite himself. He thought traveling to the future and meeting his supposed to be dead father was the weirdest thing he’d experience today. It was just going to be one of *those* days, wasn’t it?'





	1. Where the hell?

 

**DISCLAIMER** _**: I do not own any of the characters. Any and all recognizable characters and plot lines belong to J.K. Rowling and Marvel Studios respectively.** **  
** _

* * *

 

 

“Freeze!” It was the first thing Harry heard after the black shadows had completely enveloped him, before depositing him roughly in some other place with a lot of light that had Harry squinting and trying desperately to cover his eyes.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” Harry groaned feeling his knees hit the floor as his legs gave out from under him. The feeling of cold water sliding down his back let Harry know that his potion was fading. His skin was bubbling and his body growing taller, bigger. The clothes on his back were almost screaming at the strain as they were pushed to their very last stitch.

“Stand down! It’s Captain Rogers!” Another voice, this time female, ordered briskly.

“Sir, footage shows Captain Rogers is aboard the quin-jet flying back from Germany!” Another voice cried out in warning.

‘Bloody hell, how many people were surrounding him?’ Harry thought to himself in a panic. The bubbling along his skin had thankfully stopped although his clothes were about one wrong move from abandoning him altogether.

Harry reached up a hand much larger than he was used to, to swipe the glasses from his face so his vision could return to normal. Slowly, very slowly Harry pulled himself up until he was standing unsteadily looking around what looked to be some highly-advanced computer deck, filled to the brim with personnel, most of whom were pointing weapons of some sort at him. Harry’s eyes were drawn away from the immediate threat to look out the huge windows in front of him, to see a sight not often beheld without the feeling of a broom between his legs. It was a marvelous sight and Harry was almost tempted to lose himself completely in it and just stop caring altogether. He’d been fighting for so long; couldn’t he just have this moment?

But no, his potion had worn off. These people wouldn’t know who he was. They were likely to open fire with their deadly looking weapons if he didn’t start explaining and fast. For now they seemed to be examining him and his movements closely as if unsure how to proceed. Harry in turn began examining them carefully. He counted exits and the exact number of people in the room. He also acknowledged that although he held no weapon the dark-skinned man with the eye patch was undoubtedly in charge. Which is why Harry directed his attention toward him.

“Er, Hello?” Harry eventually greeted with an awkward wave of his left hand. With his right, he brushed the slightly longer, still messy, blonde hair from his eyes. “This is a bit of a strange question but um, where the bloody hell am I?” Harry asked trying to come across as nonthreatening as possible.

“You don’t know?” The eye patched man asked in what must have been disbelief although it came out sounding angry.

“No?” Harry replied sheepishly. “Look I know this is probably hard to believe but I wasn’t trying to get…. here. I mean, one minute I was walking through a forest and the next thing I know I’m here.” Harry began to explain, his voice becoming harder as he went. How many times exactly was he going to have to walk to his own death before this whole thing was done?

Suddenly Harry began to feel all kinds of pissed off with just about everything. He was ready. He was about to sacrifice himself to free a world that had done nothing but try and kill him. All he’d wanted was to see his parents one last time, maybe apologise to Sirius and Remus for leading them to their deaths. Was that so much to ask for? Instead he was stranded god knew where, far away from Hogwarts leaving his only friends to probably be brutally murdered. He needed to get back. And he needed to get back now!

“How about you take a seat son and we can talk about this?” The eye patch man offered slowly. Maybe he could sense Harry’s building anger.

Harry wasn’t about to sit around chatting while all his friends were left to die so instead he closed his eyes, concentrating on where he needed to be before spinning on the spot.

Except there was no loud crack and no squeezing sensation. In fact, when Harry opened his eyes he was still in the strange place except now he was facing a conference table. Harry stumbled over to the conference table, falling into one of the chairs. He paid no attention to the final ripping noise his shirt gave before the shoulders burst, falling in strips to hang at his waist, leaving his scarred torso on full view.

He was thin, skinnier than he’d been in a long time as food wasn’t as easy to come across when running from all of England. There was no doubt a mixture of both bruises, burns, blood and dirt striping his torso from both his escape at Gringotts and the battle he’d just come directly from fighting.  Add to that the scars he’d acquired from years of fending off Voldemort’s attacks and well, he certainly looked the war torn solider he was inside.

“Let’s start with a name, shall we?” The eye patched man suggested briskly, coming to stand on the opposite side of the table of where Harry had thrown himself.

“Yeah sure, go ahead.” Harry responded distantly. The eye patched man frowned as his one visible eyes narrowed.

“I’m Director Nick Fury. And you are?” Eye patch demanded. And yeah okay, Harry could totally see why a name like Fury would suit the sour man in front of him.

Harry paused momentarily considering which name he should give, for all he knew these people might be enemies. With his name plastered across wanted posters in both muggle and wizarding Britain maybe it would be easier to use his birth name? Or maybe a variation of the two.

“Harry James Rogers.” Harry quickly blurted when the expectant silence began to stretch just a bit too long.

“James Rogers?” Fury repeated after a moment. Harry shrugged, giving the man a quick nod. “What age are you kid?” Fury asked softly.

Harry gave an exhausted sigh, melting further into his seat. “I’m seventeen. My turn. Where the hell am I?” Harry demanded grouchily.

“You’re on a SHIELD Helicarrier, we’re currently over the Atlantic Ocean heading toward New York.”

“New York?! As in America?!” Harry exclaimed jumping to his feet. Fury watched him with a single eyebrow raised as Harry spun around as if expecting to see a lit-up sign advertising ‘ENGLAND THIS WAY’. Harry’s hands flew into his hair as he spun on the spot a mantra of no’s falling disbelievingly from his lips. He couldn’t apparate that far, didn’t know how to create a portkey and approaching the American Ministry of Magic was tempting fate. Who knew how far Voldemort’s reach had gone? Certainly, most of Europe was subdued under his rule, who was to say America wasn’t to?

What would Voldemort do when his countdown was done and Harry failed to appear? He’d kill them, he’d kill all of them. Oh god, he had to get back!

Spinning to once more face the eye patch man Harry leant forward, palms on the table, eyes staring straight at the man.

“I need to get back to England, specifically as far into the Scottish Highlands as we can get. The lives of everyone, _everyone_ in this world I care about depends on it.” Harry explained as sincerely as he could, the war-torn soldier in him wouldn’t allow for his hard stance to soften any more than it already was. It felt to him that the tight ache of stress would forever have his shoulders stiff and his face haunted.

Fury nodded to one of his people, a female with hair pulled in a tight pony tail and a no nonsense presence. The woman turned and started barking orders to a group of adults sitting at one section of the many computer units.

“Bring up whatever we’ve got around the Scottish Highlands.” She ordered briskly.

“No, you don’t understand. Your technology won’t penetrate…” Harry trailed off as the castle he called home came into view. The turrets stood proudly, the quidditch pitch whole and untouched, the grounds filled with small dots, obviously, students as they basked in the glow of a _hot Summers Day_.

As in daytime.

Not the grey lifeless world Hogwarts had been when Harry had entered the forest, knowing dawn was still hours away,

“Bring up video from right now!” Harry ordered rushing toward the computer screen to stare at the zoomed in, crystal like quality of the lake, and the three Hufflepuff’s sitting beside it laughing.

“This feed is live, sir.” The man sitting in front of the computer stuttered nervously as Harry loomed over him.

 “That- That’s not possible. It was still night, only a couple hours from dawn, but- but it was night.” Harry whispered staring in disbelief at the unfamiliar students.

 “Sir, the others have arrived.” A voice said distantly although Harry wasn’t much listening as the statement hadn’t been directed toward him. Fury nodded absently, still watching Harry as he leant over the computer.

“Son,” Fury called waiting until Harry turned to look at him until continuing. “What year is it?” Fury asked calmly.

Harry’s brows scrunched up in absolute confusion at the question. “I- I lost a few hours, okay? I’m not crazy!” Harry growled defensively.

Fury raised one unimpressed brow, his mouth tightening to a frown. Four men and one woman entered the room, although Harry only distantly knew this. His wartime reflexes had him counting the people entering and exiting the room even now during his distress. “Answer the question, Rogers. What is todays date?” Fury demanded sounding a lot less patient.

“May 2nd, 1998.” Harry bit out harshly, glaring at the eye patched man. If anything, the man’s frown became more pronounced as he turned his back to Harry to look at the new arrivals. Harry followed his gaze.

In the lead was a red headed woman who despite being genuinely beautiful looked as though she were hiding a deadly side he didn’t want to see. Next to catch his attention was the giant blond man standing next to the redhead, he wore the strangest armour Harry had ever seen. Despite his red cape, what struck Harry as the strangest was the hammer hanging from the man’s hip. An honest to god stone hammer.

Harry turned ever confused eyes onto the next two in line, both the shortest of the group. Both polar opposites. The man with the goatee seemed to scream look at me in everything from his look to his stance. The other man however seemed to almost be curled into himself, shoulders hunched inward to make himself seem smaller and non-threatening. For a moment, Harry’s breath was stolen as he was reminded of a younger Sirius and Remus from Snape’s memory. A version of them before the war took its toll.

Harry tore his eyes reluctantly from the two, not noticing how the hands at his sides curled into fists to stop the shaking. The last man Harry looked to had him pausing as the two gaped at one another. It wasn’t that they were completely identical, but they were close. So close that upon first glance they could have been damned twins. That is, if it weren’t for what Harry suspected was at least a five-year age difference.

Harry’s hair was both messier and a darker blond than the man before him. Harry’s cheek bones slightly more angular. And yeah, Harry was definitely skinnier than this hulking man, his ribs showing despite the still rather impressive muscles on him. This Harry put down to the simple fact he had spent the last year being undesirable number One.

Slowly Harry turned to face Director Fury once again. Harry was no Ravenclaw but he was slowly starting to piece together a rather terrifying picture. All the advanced tech, the school not ravaged by war, the man that looked near identical to him and- and Director Fury’s strange question.

“What-” Harry broke off licking his lips. “What year is it?” Harry asked softly, head titled sideways as he squinted slightly at the feel of such an odd question.

“2nd of May 2012.” Fury announced brutally honest like ripping off a band aid. Harry stumbled forward a step before his knees strengthened again.

So, he was in the future by about fourteen years.

No big deal. He’d dealt with worse. At least he’d gotten out of that damned forest, right? Hadn’t had to fight that maniac knowing at best he was only throwing his life away to buy time for his two friends to locate the final Horcrux.

Harry’s hand went to his chin and he rubbed it hard as he worked his jaw. Forced his shoulders back until he was standing tall with not more than a huff.

“Right, sure. So, I’m in the future. Okay.” Harry announced hand drifting to run through his messy hair in what was definitely a nervous gesture as his eyes turned to his look alike. “So, what? You’re like my- my son or something?” Harry asked hesitantly, although that definitely didn’t make sense. Harry was damn sure he didn’t have a kid back where he was from and this guy looked a hell of a lot older than fourteen.

“Uh what?” The blond guy responded sounding far less put together than Harry himself was. “I’m not- you’re not my father.” The blond blustered quickly.

Harry nodded his head in relief, hand sweeping through his hair once again. “Good. I- I didn’t think you could have been, I mean you’re too old. Even if this is the future.” Harry smiled ruefully looking to Fury who seemed to be staring at him with a calculating look Harry had seen on one too many faces in his life.

“Take a seat Rogers, I have some questions for you.” Fury instructed. He turned to face the others without seeing if Harry was going to comply. He gestured for them to take a seat at the conference table which they did almost immediately. Harry walked stiffly toward it, taking a seat as far from the others as he could. He let his head fall backwards, hand moving to cover exhausted, and aching eyes.

“Let’s get this over with.” Harry groaned after a moment, straightening himself in his seat.

 

* * *

 **A/N:** **Hi folks! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it :) I have a few chapters currently planned or underway for this story. But in saying that, I'm a uni student supporting myself with a part time job. Updates won't necessarily be every week, in fact they may be irregular. I will, however, promise to get them out just as fast as I can type them.**

**Finally, if you enjoyed this please leave kudos or a review!**

**Any and all *POLITE* criticism is welcome! Here to learn and improve!**


	2. When Harry met Steve.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously:  
> “What-” Harry broke off licking his lips. “What year is it?” Harry asked softly, head titled sideways as he squinted slightly at the feel of such an odd question.  
> “2nd of May 2012.” Fury announced brutally honest like ripping off a band aid.  
> \---  
> “Take a seat Rogers, I have some questions for you.” Fury instructed. He turned to face the others without seeing if Harry was going to comply. He gestured for them to take a seat at the conference table which they did almost immediately. Harry walked stiffly toward it, taking a seat as far from the others as he could. He let his head fall backwards, hand moving to cover exhausted, and aching eyes. 
> 
> “Let’s get this over with.” Harry groaned after a moment, straightening himself in his seat.

 

* * *

Steve watched the man who looked so like him, who apparently had his last name, move tensely to sit at the conference room with them. He slid into his seat in an almost mechanical manner before letting his head fall back. His right hand, dirty and cut, came up to cover his eyes. The young man let out an exhausted sigh, shoulders hitching slightly with it.

Steve’s eyes traveled down the stranger’s, oddly, naked chest. He took in the obvious muscles there despite the emancipated appearance. Steve had just enough time to stare grimly at the cuts, dirt, blood, and bruises coating the younger man’s torso before the man sat forward.

“Let’s get this over with.” He grumbled low in his chest. The hand covering his eyes slid down rubbing his face as he did.

“Sure, let’s start with who, exactly the hell, are you?” Howard’s kid demanded briskly.

“Names Harry.” The young man offered stiffly.

“Fury called you Rogers. That your last name?” Steve couldn’t help himself from asking. Harry looked to him, his eyes seeming to stare at Steve as if searching for recognition.

“Yeah, Harry James Rogers to be exact.” Harry agreed watching to see Steve’s reaction. And boy did Steve give him one as his eyes went wide, fist clenching at his side even as his jaw locked tight.

“That the name you were born with?” Steve demanded hoarsely. Harry seemed to shift slightly in his seat looking to Fury for a moment before his eyes flickered back to Steve.

For the moment, the others seemed willing to let Steve take the lead on this one.

“No. James Steven Rogers is my birth name.” Harry answered before pausing as if unwilling to continue. He sighed and Steve didn’t miss how his right hand strayed toward his pocket, as if going for a weapon. “I’ve also been known by the name Harry James Potter.” Harry finished looking around the room for any reaction.

Steve was surprised it was the second name Harry was so concerned about when it was the first that had blown Steve’s world apart.

“Harry Potter?” Fury demanded. Harry turned his attention to Fury, hand drifting ever closer to his left pocket. He offered a simple jerking dip of his head in answer. Fury sat back in his seat and folded his hands in his lap. “You’re claiming to be a lot of important people, kid. How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Fury asked tensely.

Harry’s eyes narrowed slightly before understanding crossed his face and he gave a weary nod.

“From as early on as I can remember until I was nine years old I had two sets of memories. Those of James Rogers and those of Harry Potter. Up until last year I firmly believed the memories of Harry Potter were my own. Except the real Harry Potter was killed by his Uncle two weeks before his ninth birthday.” Harry revealed, looking away from the horrified faces of those watching him. “Thing was; Harry Potter was a national icon, more than that he was the prophesised hero that would save the world when war inevitably broke out again. The man that was supposed to protect him, that left him with his pig of an uncle in the first damn place, he panicked. He used some sort of ritual to pull a replacement out of history. A kid that was in his own rights born a national icon all because of who his father was.” Here Harry shrugged. “That’s where I come in, you see? Because once upon a time I was James Steven Rogers, the son of Captain America.” Harry ignored the choking noises coming from those at the end of the table having expected it.

Steve could feel himself nearly hyperventilating. When he’d come to from the ice, they’d told him his son had gone missing back in 1953, never to be found again. Presumed dead. It had broken his heart worse than almost anything else. To find out his son had been yanked through time, waking up in a future he didn’t understand at only nine years old all because of one man’s mistake. To now know, that the man in front of him, the man with the haunted eyes so much like those Steve had seen a hundred times before on a hundred different soldiers, was his son. His little boy.

Steve wished they hadn’t already captured Loki. He could’ve used something to hit.

“I was given Harry Potters memories; a disguise was placed on me and then I was forced to live with Harry Potter’s Aunt and Uncle.” Harry continued to speak despite the fact Steve was freaking the hell out.

Wait. Harry Potter’s Uncle?

“The same Uncle that killed the original Harry Potter?” Tony Stark demanded before Steve himself, or anyone else, could.

“Yeah. They had their memories altered, made them believe Uncle Vernon had given Harry a bad beating but Harry had eventually recovered.” Harry explained sounding seven kinds of detached from the story he was telling. “Everyone around me was calling me Harry, I looked like Harry Potter, had his memories. Eventually I believed it. I grew up as Harry Potter, went to the school he should have gone, fought the man that murdered his parents, adopted his war and lived his life. It wasn’t until the man that put me in Harry’s life was murdered that my disguise wore off. It took me and my best friends two months just to figure out what the hell had happened. I eventually remembered back when I was a kid, the strange dreams I used to have about being Captain America’s boy. We looked it up, turns out I look a lot like my old man.” Harry announced with a shrug as if he wasn’t comparing himself to Steve.

“How did you come to be in our time?” Fury asked softly, well as softly as Fury was capable of anyway. Harry brought his hands up, rubbing vigorously at his face.

“I don’t know.” He grumbled from behind his hands, dropping them a second later to glare off into the distance before turning his head back to them. “I’ve been as honest as I can with you all, I’d appreciate you returning the favour. You can start by explaining who he is.” Harry commanded, sitting up straighter as he pointed toward Steve.

Steve knew he probably looked a right mess as all eyes turned toward him. His hands were shaking, his breath short and if the chilled feeling in his spine was anything to go by he must have been pale white. Steve opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out leaving him to work his jaw uselessly.

Steve turned pleading eyes to Fury, begging the man to help him.

“In March 1945 Captain Steve Rogers led an attack on a HYDRA base where they suspected Johann Schmidt, also known as-” Fury began to explain.

“The Red Skull, I know.” Harry interrupted rolling his eyes. “I know what happened that day. The Captain went after Schmidt, both were confirmed on board when the Valkyrie took off. They supposedly fought, the Captain gaining control of the plane. Steve Rogers broadcasted a radio transmission, Peggy Carter picked up. The two spoke briefly before Rogers put the plane in the water. It was the last anyone ever heard from him.” Harry quickly summarised. “I know how my father died, thank you.” He added dryly.

“Except you don’t.” Fury replied, clearly miffed at being interrupted before. “The Captain was never confirmed KIA, only presumed. Two weeks ago, the Valkyrie was found and on it-”

“Me.” Steve interrupted, finally finding his voice. Harry spun to face Steve, eyes widening and mouth gaping. “I was frozen in the ice. The serum kept me alive and they were able to defrost me. In a blink of an eye I went from 1945 to 2012.” Steve explained keeping his gaze trained on Harry.

“You- No- That’s not-” Harry gaped, going very pale. He looked quickly to the others in the room as if hoping to confirm it from them. Steve never turned but whatever he seen on their faces must have been enough as he returned to gaping at Steve. “You’re-” Harry trailed off.

“I’m your father.” Steve responded with a nod. He ignored Howard’s son as the man whispered something about a star war.

Steve couldn’t take his eyes off Harry watching every emotion fly through his boy’s eyes. Kept watching with growing sadness as slowly those emotions were locked behind a soldier’s gaze.

Harry stood to his feet slowly, mechanically. He turned his once again steely gaze away from Steve to look at Fury.

“We need to figure out how I got here and how I’m getting back.” Harry ordered, sounding determined.

Steve could see the others sending him concerned looks. Maybe they thought he’d be hurt by Harry’s apparent dismissal of him? Maybe he really would have been if Steve didn’t know the truth of it.

Harry was distancing himself from the emotional trauma. He couldn’t think with it consuming him so instead he compartmentalized the whole thing in order to operate. Steve knew countless soldiers who’d used the same technique. Among them Bucky and even Steve on occasion. Sometimes you needed to shelve what you were feeling to get the job done.

“And we will. But right now, we have our own immediate situation to resolve.” Fury responded getting to his feet. Harry opened his mouth to protest but already Fury had turned away from him.  
“I’m going to welcome our newest guest. All of you remain here.” He ordered before beginning to walk away. “And someone get Cap Junior a damn shirt!” Was his parting shot as he left.

* * *

**A/N: So, another chapter not 24-hours after the first... please, don't get used to it.**

**Anyway, enjoy. Let me know what you thought with a comment!**


	3. One of Those Days

A no-named agent supplied Harry with a standard white t-shirt with the shield emblem emblazoned on the front. He shrugged it on quickly while turning toward the Agent that had originally brought up the feed from Hogwarts.

Harry moved quickly to him, ignoring how the others seemed to be watching a different video at the table.

“That video you brought up earlier, can you bring it up again?” Harry asked, looking over at the scared agent. The man, who must have been considerably older than Harry himself, gulped harshly before offering a stuttering yes.

Very quickly the footage of Hogwarts came back on the screen. Harry let a shaky breath out at seeing his home still standing proudly. The agent zoomed in along the grounds once again. It seemed the three Hufflepuff’s had retreated back inside.

“Is there any footage from 14 years ago?” Harry asked, pretending not to notice how his voice had broken slightly at asking it.

“I-I don’t know.” He stuttered in response.

“Can you check? Please?” Harry begged, pulling his eyes from peaceful Hogwarts to look at the man.

“Um, yes sir.” He agreed, typing rapidly at his computer. Harry watched as the man sped through different option menus, going through lists of footage until he reached as far back as he could. Harry could clearly see on the screen that the monitoring of Hogwarts grounds had only began the 3rd of May. Harry nodded briskly at the agent as the man turned to him in askance.

He was faced with a very familiar sight.

The footage was a lot less clear, rather shaky in fact. And yet Harry recognized everything. It was late evening in the footage. Hogwarts might have been dark if it weren’t for the copious fires still blazing around the place. Chunks of the castle were missing, including the entirety of Gryffindor tower, all that was left a ragged looking wound.

“Jesus.” The Agent helping him breathed. He began to manipulate his controls zooming in as best he could with the old footage.

“Don’t!” Harry hissed. Too late.

Harry ignored the Agents flinch. Ignored the urge to look away and forced himself to look. It was the least he could do to honor the small body shown through flickering footage. Harry had done this. Had brought the final fight to Hogwarts before leading his school against the greatest evil of his time. He didn’t recognize the body before him. The head was turned away but there was no mistaking the Ravenclaw robes. Nor the fact that only the top half of the body was sitting before them. From the hip’s down was missing, leaving a ragged bloody mess in its place.

The Agent zoomed out and still Harry kept his eyes focused on that small body until it became little more than a pix-elated blur. Manipulating the controls once more the Agent fanned the camera out to show other angles it had captured.

“Bring up footage of the forest.” Harry ordered. The Agent turned to look at him. Whatever expression Harry wore had the man gulping quickly, eyes widening, as he turned back to frantically bring up what Harry had asked for. The forest came into view and-

It looked… normal.

Harry wasn’t quite sure what he expected to see. It seemed strange to see the place so normal considering what Harry had planned to do. At the sight of the Dark Forest, Harry found himself swallowing harshly, hiding his hands in his pockets to both clutch his wand and hide their shaking.

“Is there anyone moving about outside?” Harry lowered his voice to aid in his attempt at hiding the break he was sure would come if he spoke louder. The agent took a moment to look through the camera angles before giving a negative shake of his head. “Right, thanks.” Harry grunted pulling himself away from the man.

Harry turned to face the great expanse of windows before him. He took a moment to just loose himself amongst those clouds just as surely as he lost himself in thought.

He’d been hoping these people might actually have recorded his final battle with Voldemort. He might have been able to get some kind of advantage, or at the very least see if his sacrifice was enough. As it stood now, Harry knew he was walking to his death if he went to that meeting. He knew it and accepted it. What he didn’t know is if he’d bought enough time, did he hold them off long enough for Hermione and Ron to destroy that last Horcrux? Long enough for them to make Voldemort _finally_ mortal.

Harry had already accepted he wasn’t going to be able to kill the bastard, but hell, he could at least weaken him enough for someone else to. After all, Harry wasn’t the original Harry Potter. He was James Rogers, no matter what he called himself. Which meant the precious prophecy meant jack all and anyone could finish this. So no, Harry didn’t need to stop him. Just buy time.

So many good people had given their lives to stop Voldemort and really Harry had no right to do any less than them.

But now he was in the future. Miles and years from where he needed to be. Maybe he could wait it out until Fury and his people could figure out how to get him home. After all, if they were sending him back in time it didn’t _really_ matter how much time Harry spent in the future, right? Sure, he’d have to spend every day knowing they were numbered. But at least there’d be extra days. So yeah, he’d wait it out here until he could go back. Maybe even spend some time with his father?

Harry had to stop that thought there. He didn’t think he was capable of opening up that can of worms yet. Not without losing his composure completely.

God, but it would be good to know the man. Harry had always wanted- No.

No. It was best for now he simply looked at Steve as just that. Steve Rogers. A regular guy… that just so happened to be his father…

Dammit.

He needed to get out of his own head.

Harry moved himself over to the conference table, slipping into his seat once more. None of them seemed to really notice, too busy watching a video of Fury talking to a man caged in a circular glass room. Well, none except Steve noticed him anyway. The Captain offered him a small, strained smile before returning his eyes back to the screen. Harry turned his own eyes to the screen watching what he suspected was the dark-haired man’s interrogation.

The dark-haired man inside the cage was smiling nastily at Fury while Fury looked on in disinterest.   
“The mindless beast, makes play he’s still a man.” The dark-haired man was saying. “How desperate are you, that you call upon such lost creatures to defend you?” The man finished with a sneer.

“How desperate am I?” Fury rhetorically asked. “You threaten my world with war. You steal a force you can’t hope to control.” Fury was responding. Harry found himself sitting up straighter paying more attention to what was being discussed. Is this the problem Fury had mentioned? The future world being on the brink of another war?

Still Fury was speaking on the screen. “You talk about peace and you kill ‘cause it’s fun. You have made me _very_ desperate. You might not be glad that you did.”

“ _Ooh_.” The caged man mocked softly. “It burns you to come so close. To have the Tesseract, to have power, unlimited power. And for What? A warm light for all mankind to share, and then to be reminded what real power is.” The man almost cooed.

Harry didn’t understand half of what was just said but he knew enough to tell that those right there, those were fighting words. The caged man was clearly not intimidated. In fact, if his manner was anything to go by he thought he was still winning.

“Well you let me know if _Real Power_ wants a magazine or something.” Fury sniped with a not so nice smile before spinning on his heel and walking away. The caged man looked directly to the camera smirking at them through the screen. Harry almost felt the man could really see them, sending a shiver up his spine.

The brunet, the one who reminded Harry so much of Remus, snorted before announcing; “He really grows on you doesn’t he?”

Harry couldn’t help himself from interjecting. “Who the hell is he?” Harry asked. He was surprised to hear his voice come out quite harsh. The caged man’s cocky air and disregard for life was grating Harry, reminding him too much of the Death Eaters he’d been fighting nearly his whole life.

“His name is Loki. He’s an alien from another world called Asgard.” The bearded brunette announced bluntly. If his expectant look was anything to go by he was aiming to get some sort of reaction from Harry.

“An alien?” Harry responded skeptically, eyebrow raised as if challenging him to pull the other leg.  

“Sure. Earths the main event, Loki and Thor are the gate crashers.” He continued, jerking a thumb in the big blonde’s direction. Harry turned to face the man as the two seemed to examine one another.

“Loki’s gonna drag this out. So, Thor, what’s his play?” Steve interrupted bringing them back on topic. Thor pulled his gaze away from Harry seemingly reluctantly as he turned to face the others.

“He has an army called the Chitauri. They are not of Asgard or any world known. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the earth. In return, I suspect, for the Tesseract.” Thor explained grimly.

Harry felt his eyebrows raising as he looked to the others. “An army from outer space? As in aliens. Really?” Harry asked humour leaking into his voice despite himself. He thought traveling to the future and meeting his supposed to be dead father was the weirdest thing he’d experience today. It was just going to be one of _those_ days, wasn’t it?

Thor offered him a small nod but did not offer a verbal response.

“So, he’s building another portal. That’s what he needs Erik Selvig for.” The other brunet, the quiet one, mused out loud. And yeah, this was getting a bit ridiculous. Harry seriously needed to find out the names of the group before him.

“Selvig?” Thor blurted in confusion.

“He’s an astrophysicist.”

“He’s a friend.”

“Loki has him under some kind of spell, along with one of ours.” The red headed woman inputted into the two men’s exchange. Hang on, did she say spell?

“A spell?” Harry repeated as he leant closer in.

“Yeah, looks like magic is real too.” Steve offered sympathetically. Harry waved a hand dismissively.

“I know that. What spell did he use?” Harry demanded. He was met with silence for several minutes while the others exchanged looks.

“You know that magic is real?” The red head echoed him in the same way he echoed her. Harry shrugged.

“Yeah?” Harry replied slowly. The red head looked to the bearded brunet offering him a smirk.

“Loki’s using his glow stick of destiny which runs off of a form of very advanced science. Not magic.” Beard guy huffed dramatically. Harry scrunched his face in confusion as he sat back.

He’d never heard of anything like a destiny stick. Although maybe Beard Guy was right and it was simply futuristic technology? Or even alien technology. It didn’t have to be magic.

 “Iridium, what did they need the iridium for?” The quite brunet wondered aloud, apparently not having listened to their exchange. Or maybe he had and he was simply moving them along.

“It’s a stabilizing agent.” Beard guy announced as he pulled himself to his feet. Trotting over to the control board, poking at it interestedly. “Means the portal won’t collapse on itself, like it did at SHIELD. Also, it means the portal can open as wide, and stay open as long as Loki wants.” He mused absently.

Harry turned to stare at the others and found all but the quiet Brunet looking just as confused as he himself felt. At least that was comforting.

“Uh, raise the mid-mast, ship the top sails! That man is playing GALAGA! Thought we wouldn’t notice. But we did.” Beard guy hollered, pointing into the gallery of agents where indeed one man seemed to be quickly minimizing some sort of game, pulling up a file. With a huff, he turned to face them once more. “The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily. Only major component he still needs is a power source. A high-energy density, something to kick start the cube.”

“Since when did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?” The female agent from before demanded.

“Last night. The packet, Selvig’s notes, the Extraction Theory Papers? Am I the only one who did the reading?” Beard guy asked in exasperation. He threw up his hands at the blank looks of everyone else.

“Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?” Steve asked after a moment’s silence. When Harry chanced a glance over to the Captain it was to see him sitting sideways, hand under his chin and looking as though he were thinking very hard.

“He’s got to heat the cube to a hundred and twenty million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier.” The other brunet announced as if thinking out loud. Beard guy spun around at the quiet man’s comment. His eyes sparked with excitement as he took a step forward.

“Unless Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect.” Beard guy argued. Or at least Harry thought he was arguing. If he was being honest, Harry had gotten lost since the bearded fellow first started his spiel.

“Well, if he could do that he could achieve Heavy Ion Fusion at any reactor on the planet.” The quiet brunet replied with that same pensive air as if he were thinking out loud.

“Finally, someone who speaks English!” Beard guy exclaimed enthusiastically.

“Is that just what happened?” Harry grumbled at the same time as Steve. Both turned surprised faces to one another before quickly looking away.

“Wow. Creepy.” Beard guy whistled before marching forward to shake the quiet man’s hand. Both men were eyeing each other up with excitement for some reason.

“It’s good to meet you, Doctor Banner.” Beard guy declared. And finally! A name to distinguish between the two. “You’re work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled.” Harry watched as Doctor Banner’s lip twitched upwards at the praise. Had he stopped there, Beard man might have successfully broken the ice. Except he didn’t. “And I’m a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster.” Beard man finished with a flourish.

Okay, what? Giant Green rage monster? What the hell?

Harry watched with scrunched brows as the small glimmer of a smile disappeared from Doctor Banner’s face as he scrunched his shoulders once again folding into himself.

“Uh, thanks.” Banner mumbled to his shoes.

“Doctor Banner is only here to track the cube.” Director Fury announced as he entered the room. Harry was beginning to get the feeling the man was incapable of not making a dramatic entrance/exit. “I was hoping you might join him.” Fury directed this comment to beard man who merely raised an eyebrow at the ‘request’. 

“Let’s start with that stick of his. It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.” Steve inputted from his still pensive position. Fury nodded, a tiny dip of his head acknowledging Steve’s input.

“I don’t know about that, but it is powered by the cube. And I’d like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.” Fury grumbled.

“Monkeys? I do not understand.” Thor puzzled looking to the in confusion.

‘Me either, mate. In fact, I’m not really understanding anything that’s happened today,’ Harry thought sympathetically.

“I do!” Steve exclaimed sitting forward in his seat. “I understood that reference.” He added excitedly. His blue eyes looked around the room to see many unimpressed faces, besides Harry’s which had yet to stop being scrunched in confusion. Steve slowly slunk back in his seat the excitement draining from him.

“Shall we play, doctor?” Beard guy asked flippantly.

“Let’s play some.” Banner agreed solemnly before the two departed. Harry watched them go before turning his attention back to the others present only to see them staring at him.

“What?” Harry asked after the silence had stretched just a little too long.

“If you are who you say you are, then you’ve done some serious fighting.” Fury mused as he examined Harry intently. From his left, he could see Steve turning to face Fury with an incredulous expression.

“I’ve been known to have the occasional disagreement, sure.” Harry agreed slowly. Fury smiled slightly at his response.

“You ever heard of the Avenger Initiative?” Fury asked seriously. Harry opened his mouth to reply before he was cut off.

“No!” Steve shouted quickly. “You’re not- With all due respect Director, this isn’t his fight. You can’t ask him to get involved.” Captain America quickly blustered. Harry couldn’t keep the surprised expression off his face.

All his life people had been throwing him toward the fighting, not trying to keep him away. Sure, Mrs Weasley had stood up for him occasionally but when it came to it, Harry was always going to be running toward the danger, not away. She knew that and, for the most part, accepted it. It had been so long since anyone had tried to shelter him. Not since after Sirius had died. After that, Harry hadn’t let them protect him. He’d made it perfectly clear that he was either all in, or completely out. And since Voldemort was literally gunning for his head, Harry never could have gotten all the way out. There hadn’t really been a choice.

Having someone now try to protect him had Harry feeling all kinds of strange. He wasn’t sure he particularly appreciated it if he was being honest with himself.

“It was his fight the minute he stepped foot in our time, Captain.” Fury rebutted before turning his attention back to Harry. “If Loki isn’t stopped, SHIELD will be in no position to help you return home.”

Harry found himself gritting his teeth and the blatant manipulation Fury was trying to pull on him.   
“I would have helped if you simply asked.” Harry bit out lowly. “No need to get nasty.” Harry glowered before getting to his feet. “I assume the world can wait long enough for me to shower and eat?”

“Of course. I’ll show you to a room.” The red headed woman agreed, also standing to her feet. Harry offered her a nod of thanks before the two set off without waiting for anyone else to speak.

 

“Natasha Romanoff.” The red head stated simply as they were walking.

“Sorry?” Harry asked in confusion. They had been walking in complete silence up until now.

“My name. Natasha Romanoff.” She explained simply. “Do you have a preference to what I should call you?”

Harry thought on it for a long second. “You can call me whatever you like. I answer to pretty much anything these days it seems.” Harry admitted almost wryly. “Although I’d probably prefer Harry.” Harry decided after another thoughtful moment.

Natasha nodded her head and flashed him a small smile.

“Harry it is then.” She confirmed as they came to a stop outside a plain looking door. “This will be your room. There’s a shower attached. Why don’t you get cleaned up?” Natasha offered as she pressed a button.

The door slid open to show a bare room with a single bed, a desk with wardrobe drawers surrounding it. Another door led into the small yet practical bathroom on the other side.

To Harry, the set up looked almost luxurious. He supposed that was the cost of having spent the last year living on the run and sleeping in a tent. Either way, when Harry turned to offer Natasha a smile of thanks it was entirely real and heartfelt.

“It’s great. Thank you.” Harry told her politely as he stepped inside.

“I’ll have someone bring you something clean to wear.” Natasha told him, giving her own tight lipped smile in response. “Be ready in an hour and I’ll take you to the dining hall.” Natasha instructed before turning on her heel.

Harry watched the red-haired woman move swiftly down the hall for a few seconds before he stepped inside his room. He couldn’t stop himself from spinning around in surprise, hand halfway to his wand, when the door slid shut automatically behind him.

‘Yeah, it was going to be one of _those_ _days’_ , Harry thought as he forced himself to relax.

 

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**A/N: Thanks you to everyone who reviewed, left kudos or followed. I appreciate your support, advice, and encouraging messages immensely.  I hope you all enjoy this chapter :) Let me know what you think!**


	4. Reflections and Doubts

**A/N: Long time, no post! Hi everyone!**  
**First of all, I'm unbelievably touched at all the interest and love you guys have been sending. Truly, thank you.**  
  
**Secondly, I'd like to apologize for the long wait. I promised you all irregular updates but even I'm shocked at how swept up and busy I've been this Holiday season. Either way, I'm back now so although I still won't promise any regular updates, I can promise to try not leave such a gap this time. I appreciate your patience and understanding :)**

**Now to the story!**

**Warning: Mild Swearing!**

* * *

 

 Chapter Four: Reflections And Doubts

 

Harry emerged from the shower amongst a billow of steam. He’d set the water to as hot as he could bare in an effort to rid himself of the dirt crusted along his skin. (Stubbornly, he’d paid no attention when at first the water came off him in a coppery red wash).

When he finally caught sight of himself in the slightly fogged mirror, Harry came to a stop. He’d spent hours examining his new appearance after Dumbledore’s death and his disguises subsequent failure. Still, it had been so long since he’d re-donned his Harry Potter disguise, he almost didn’t recognise himself in the reflective surface.

He stared at his eyes, specifically their colour. What was once a shocking Avada Kedavra green, was now a bright blue, with only the barest slivers of green. It was almost painful to look into his own eyes and not be reminded of his mother, or rather Lily Potter. Harry silently sighed.

He’d had little time to come to terms with his true parentage, too focused on the war. And even then, they’d needed Harry to keep up with his potions, - their alternative to the complex glamour spell Dumbledore cast each year. Like it or not, his face, or rather _Harry Potter’s_ face, became a symbol of hope against Voldemort and his lackeys. To suddenly have someone who looked nothing like Harry Potter claiming to be him? Not a good way to round up the troops. By the time he’d found out the truth, he had a far more personal stake in the war with Voldemort than simple retribution for the Potter’s deaths. And there was _so much more_ at stake.

So, he’d compartmentalised. Put away the trauma of this new discovery and for the most part, tried to pretend it didn’t happen. The fact he still looked the same, and the distraction of the ongoing conflict, helped him to that end. 

But now…

Staring at his true face, Harry could no longer pretend to be unaffected. Not when his real father, alive and whole, was a short walk away.

A knock on the outside of the small bathroom’s door had Harry spinning around. His hand instinctively went for his wand, snatching it from the bathroom sink with the reflexes of a natural born seeker. Or was that the natural reflexes of hereditary super soldier serum?

With a frustrated sigh directed at himself, Harry adjusted the towel around his waist before sliding the door open.

Only to come face to face with a rather plain looking man he didn’t recognise. The man had thinning brown hair, brown eyes and a bland, polite smile on his face. He seemed unaffected by Harry’s state of undress. Despite his mild expression, Harry could see a carefully hidden, _deeply_ troubling, case of what Ron uniquely, and _so_ endearingly, once called the triple F’s. Fanatic Fanboy Fever.

Arching his brow, Harry gave the man an expectant look.

“Agent Romanoff sent me.” The man explained with another polite smile. He stepped backwards to show Harry the clean clothes that lay folded and waiting for him on the bed. “We scrounged up something for you to wear.” Again, he spoke in that bland tone of his.

“Right. Thanks.” Harry said with a single nod in the man’s direction.

A beat past with no movement from the two men.

“Was there something…?” Harry trailed off meaningfully.

“Ah no.” The other man shuffled backwards awkwardly. “Actually, yes.” The man recorrected himself. “Agent Romanoff sends her apologies but unfortunately an assignment has come up. She asked that I escort you to the mess hall.” The man explained, regaining his calm manor as he went.  “I’ll be waiting outside, once you’re finished getting dressed.” The man finished blandly. On his face that same mild, polite smile.

Harry couldn’t stop his lips from twisting up into a small amused grin as the other man quickly turned around and marched from his room.

It wasn’t until he was dressed and following the amusing man down the hallway, that Harry realised he hadn’t asked the other man’s name.

“Coulson, Phillip Coulson. My friends call me Phil.” The man rambled slightly when Harry asked.

“Nice to meet you Phil. My friends call me Harry.” Harry told the man with a bright grin. He offered the other man his hand. They shook sideways as they continued walking.

\---

 

 Steve Rogers was not happy.

Which was ridiculous. Today of all days, the day he’d met his grown son, should have been a joyous occasion. But it wasn’t. And all because of Nick Fury of SHIELD.

The director was deaf to any and all complaints Steve sent his way. It didn’t matter that he was James’, or rather _Harry’s_ , father. The Director didn’t care whether Steve had something to say about his son becoming an Avenger or not.

“He’s still a kid!” Steve stubbornly argued. It wasn’t his first time saying so.

“Captain Rogers,” Fury snapped, rounding on him. The dark skinned man looked annoyed, the skin under his good eye twitching angrily. “I will remind you that your son is a goddamn adult. And, if half the stories I’ve heard are true, he’s more than capable of taking care of himself.” Fury snapped.

“He’s seventeen!” Steve snapped right back.

“Which in his world makes him a legal adult!” Fury’s quick response had Steve’s face countering in confusion.

“In his world?” Steve repeated.

Fury rolled his good eye before returning it to glare at Steve. “With all due respect, Captain, I’ve had just about as much sci-fi family bullshit as I can stand for one week.” Fury snapped before turning back to the tablet he was attempting to read off of. Before Steve could say anything else, Fury turned around and began to walk off. “Go talk to your kid, Rogers.” Fury threw over his shoulder as a parting comment.  

Steve stared blankly after the man for several seconds before turning and letting out a huge sigh.

Talk to his son. Right.

That was something he should definitely do. Steve turned on his heel and began striding from the gallery. As he walked his thoughts turned over what he would say to his son. Steve almost felt he hadn’t even really met the young man yet. Not really. So far he’d seen the soldier.

The soldier his little boy had become. Something Steve had never wanted for his kid.

Never the less, Steve wanted to know more than the soldier. He wanted to know the man his son had become.

Steve found his trek leading him past various closed doors until he had to stop and re-orientate himself. After a quick sigh, Steve decided to head toward the mess hall. He would never find Harry in the maze that was the personnel bunks. But Harry had said he wanted to shower _and then_ eat.

It took him a couple of wrong turns to find his way. Once he’d arrived, Steve’s eyes quickly found Harry. Steve took a moment to drink in the sight of his son, face twisted into a grin as he let out quiet snorts of laughter. The noise was carried to him by his serum-enhanced hearing, and was the sweetest sound Steve had heard since waking up in the ice. Quite by accident, Steve found himself grinning too.

Deciding to grab a tray and join them, Steve moved to the self-serve dishes set up. One benefit, Steve thought, of this new world he found himself in, was the improved food. No rationing. And none of that packaged, unidentifiable, sludge issued to them. No, sir. Before him was a veritable _feast_ of foods. He wasn’t shy in loading up his plate with a selection of near everything.

Steve moved seamlessly through the room. He expertly ignored the stares of the SHIELD agents who recognised him, with only the smallest blush tinting his ears. Steve was grateful to finally slide into the seat opposite Harry’s. And beside a person he recognised as Agent Coulson, the fan with the authentic trading cards.

“I hope you don’t mind if I sit with you?” Steve asked with a small smile in greeting. He turned to his food and began eating without waiting for a response.

“Not at all, Captain.” Coulson answered promptly.

They fell into a somewhat awkward silence.

Just as Steve’s panicked mind began spinning on a way to break the, somehow ominous feeling, silence, Harry spoke instead.

“So, fancy meeting you here,” Harry drawled.

“Not really.” Steve denied with a shoulder shrug. “My metabolism was increased thanks to the serum. Now I have to eat, well, a lot.”

“Oh, I know. Thanks for that, by the way.” Harry agreed waving his hand casually. As if he hadn’t just confused Steve and left Coulson staring at him with a blank expression.

“You know?” Coulson questioned in confusion.

“Yes. I inherited my father’s metabolism, apparently.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Really?” Steve asked with his eyes drawn up. Concern and pride warred in him. Concern that Harry was showing any signs of the serum at all. And immense pride that his son had inherited anything of his.

“How much of the serum did you inherit?” Coulson asked at the same time. Harry stared blankly at them both for a moment. He brought his hand up to run through his hair, mussing it in what was clearly a nervous gesture.

“I don’t know.” Harry admitted with a shrug. “I’ve not really had the time to think about it.”

And if Steve didn’t recognise what that face meant. He’d seen it on his own often enough, after all.

Harry was lying.

Steve surprised himself when the urge to call Harry out on it never came. In all honesty, Steve thought it probably wasn’t a bad thing SHIELD didn’t know the extent of any inherited serum enhancements in Harry.

“I’m sure we can set up some tests to see.” Coulson offered. “SHIELD has the best scientists in the world on payroll.”

An image of Harry sitting amongst a group of scientist being poked and prodded like some kind of experiment, flashed through Steve’s mind. He couldn’t stop the cold trickle of horror that ran along his spine.

“Maybe. _If_ there’s any time.” Harry agreed noncommittally, with that same expression as before on his face. Steve relaxed just slightly in his seat. “From what I can tell, SHIELD has enough on its plate this week.” Harry commented lightly.

“Yes.” Coulson agreed with a sigh. “Speaking of which, I should probably get back to work.” He decided as he stood to his feet.

Steve was disappointed to see Harry rise also.

“You’re leaving?” Steve asked. He made a point of keeping his tone steady and nonchalant.

“Yeah.” Harry nodded, flashing Steve a somewhat uneasy smile. “Phil said I could tag along while he does his rounds. Explore the place a bit. I’ve never even been on an aeroplane, you know?” Harry added, his smile becoming more relaxed as he spoke.

Steve couldn’t stop his own lips from twitching up into his own smile.

“Captain.” Coulson nodded his own farewell.

“Agent Coulson.” Steve returned the gesture in kind with his own nod.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” Harry called over his shoulder as he followed after a retreating Coulson.

“See you around.” Steve agreed softly, knowing Harry was too far to hear.

Looking down at his food, Steve let out a sigh.

He’d wanted to talk to Harry and get to know the kid more. But maybe it was better they took things slow for now. It wasn’t as if they didn’t have bigger concerns.

At the reminder, Steve stood to his feet. He decided to pay Doctor Banner and Stark a visit to see what the two had discovered so far. As he walked his thoughts stubbornly returned to his son. He couldn’t help but wonder just how much super-soldier serum Harry had inherited. He wondered what other traits Harry might have inherited from him and what he might have gotten from Peggy.

With most of his physical features coming from Steve, it was almost fitting that the boy should have a British accent like Peggy.

Steve forcibly pulled himself out of his thoughts as he entered Banner and Stark’s lab.

Just in time to witness Stark poking the Doctor in the side with some kind of electric prod device.

“Are you nuts?!” Steve demanded, as he stepped forward. Stark turned from where he’d been staring deeply into Banner’s eyes. He clearly knew what angering Banner could do. How many people it could put at risk. What was he doing?!

“Jury’s out.” Stark directed toward his, only briefly flickering his eyes toward Steve before turning back to Banner. “You really do have a lid on it, don’t you? What’s your secret? Mellow jazz? Bongo drums? Huge bag of weed?” Stark rambled as Banner let out an uncomfortable chuckle.

“Is everything a joke to you?” Steve asked scathingly. He couldn’t believe this reckless man before him was Howard Stark’s son… Well, _actually_ , Howard _had_ been reckless. But he’d also known when to be serious. Something his son clearly failed to learn.

“Funny things are.” Stark replied, pointing his prod at him.

“Threatening the safety of everyone on this ship _isn’t funny.”_ Steve told him firmly. The last thing they needed was Banner’s alter ego coming out to play. Plus, Harry was on this ship and there was no way Steve was about to let his son’s life be put in danger because of one man’s immaturity, even if that man was Tony Stark. “No offence, Doctor.” Steve added as an afterthought.

“I-it’s alright.” Banner stumbled to say. “I wouldn’t have come aboard if I couldn’t handle pointy things.” He added with a glance to the device Tony still held in his hands. Steve actually found himself liking Banner’s quiet manner and wry sense of humour.

“You’re tiptoeing big man, you need to strut!” Stark disagreed with a mock disappointed look.

“Any _you_ need to focus on the problem, Mr Stark.” Steve corrected, feeling himself losing patience with the other man.

“You think I’m not?” Stark asked, looking surprised and mockingly offended. “Why did Fury call us in? Why now? Why not before?” Stark questioned as he began walking back toward Banner. “What isn’t he telling us? And what exactly does Cap-Junior have to do with all this?”

“ _Excuse me_?” Steve demanded, his voice turned icy. What _exactly_ was Stark trying to say?

“Come on,” Stark began with a roll of his eyes. Beside him, Banner let out a nervous chuckle, the doctor’s eyes flickered from Steve to Stark and back to the machine he was fiddling with. “You can’t really think the kid turning up right when everything’s about to hit the fan, is some kind of coincidence?” Stark continued regardless.

“What exactly are you implying?” Steve demanded as he took a step forward.

Stark held up his hands innocently. “Right now? Nothing. But I can’t do the equation without all the variables.”

Banner cleared his throat. “I’m sure Mr Stark’s not trying to accuse your son of anything, right Stark?” Banner asked as he looked to the man in question. Steve turned to fix his own accusing glare on Stark.

“Oh come on,” Stark complained with another eye roll. “It’s bugging you too, isn’t it?” The last comment he directed toward Banner.

“Um, I just want to do my work and then-,” Banner stumbled over his words, clearly uncomfortable with the line of questioning.

“Doctor?” Steve interrupted. It was Stark that answered him, however, as Banner returned to looking at his work.

“Disregarding the sudden return of the prodigal son, you can’t tell me you trust Fury?” Stark demanded of Steve. “Captain, he’s a spy. He’s _the_ spy. His secrets have secrets.” Stark spun to look at Banner. “Banner, come on, back me up here.”

With a sigh, Banner straightened up and removed his glasses. “A warm light for all of mankind, Loki’s jab at Fury about the cube.” Banner quoted. Steve remembered the Asgardian saying so, although he didn’t understand the significance or why Banner was bringing it up now.

“I heard it.” Steve confirmed.

“Well, I think that was meant for you.” Banner said, pointing to not Steve but Stark. “Even if Barton didn’t tell Loki about the tower, it was still all over the news.”

“The Stark Tower?” Steve asked. “That big ugly-”, Steve paused at the unimpressed look Stark was giving him before continuing, “- building in New York?” Steve asked. He’d forgotten that the owner of said building was standing in the room with him.

“It’s powered by an arc reactor, self-sustaining energy source.” Banner explained. “That building will run itself for, what? A year?” He guessed, looking to Stark.

“That’s just the prototype.” Stark agreed. And although Steve didn’t understand everything they were saying, he understood enough to be impressed. A building that could run itself for a whole year? The future really was a marvel. “I’m kind of the only name in clean energy right now. That’s what he’s getting at.” Stark continued to explain.

“So, why didn’t SHIELD bring him in on the Tesseract project? What are they doing in the energy business, in the first place?” Banner asked with a shrug.

“I should probably look into that when my encryption program finishes breaking into all of SHIELDS files.” Stark announced as he moved around the room again.

“I’m sorry, did you say-?” Steve began to demand.

“JARVIS has been running it since I hit the bridge. In a few hours I’ll know every dirty secret SHIELD’s ever tried to hide.” Stark shrugged and offered a faint grin. As if he wasn’t in the middle of gross insubordination, and likely treason.

“Yet, you’re confused why they didn’t want you around.” Steve snipped even as he had his own reservations. What exactly was SHIELD up to?

 “An intelligence agency that fears intelligence? Historically, not awesome.” Stark retorted back.

“I think Loki’s trying to wind us up. This is a man who means to start a war, and if we don’t stay focused, he’ll succeed.” Steve informed them.  “We have our orders.” Steve added firmly even as his mind circled with possibilities and questions. Still, there was never reason to allow discord amongst the troops.

“Steve, tell me none of this smells fishy to you.” Banner pressed even as Stark let out a scoff and turned away from Steve.

“Just focus on finding the cube.” Steve told them both as he turned and marched from the room. He’d put his trust in SHIELD since waking up from the ice. Mostly due to lack of any other choice. But now, Steve needed to know exactly who he was working for. He needed to know who to trust.

Especially with his son now suddenly in the midst of it all.

Steve headed determinedly toward the cargo hold. It was time to get some answers.

 

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A/N: Till next time, folks!


	5. Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It's been a hell of a long time since I updated last, sorry about that!  
> This chapter does not have a lot of Steve in it (again, sorry). But I really don't think he would have fit. We'll be getting to the action in the next few chapters, and then I promise to indulge you all in some father/son bonding. 
> 
> Until next time folks!

Chapter Five: Guilt

Harry followed beside his newly made friend, Phil, as the older man led him through identical looking hallways.

“Where are we headed?” Harry asked casually. He’d been pleasantly surprised when instead of the fanatic fanboy Harry feared he would be, Phil instead turned out to be a pleasantly mellow guy. The man’s ability to keep a neutral face and a calm façade was in contrast to the biting humour Harry had discovered lurked underneath. Over all, Harry was pleased to have found a friendly presence to stick near in his current situation.

“Back to the Bridge. I need to get an update on the search for Selvig and Barton.” Coulson explained.

“Barton?” Harry questioned. He’d already heard Thor and Doctor Banner speak of Selvig before. He was an astrophysicist and Thor’s friend, if Harry remembered correctly. But he didn’t recall anyone mentioning Barton before.

“He’s one of ours. Loki put him under some kind of mind control spell.” Coulson replied with a sigh. _Ah_ , Natasha Romanoff had mentioned him, Harry remembered. At the same time, Harry noticed the tightness around Coulson’s eyes and the way his lips twisted just slightly down as he spoke.

“I’m sorry.” Harry told him sincerely.

“What for?” Coulson sent him a raised eyebrow along with another bland smile. Still, Harry hadn’t imagined the initial reaction.

“He was your friend?” Harry asked gently. Coulson paused for a moment before continuing walking.

“Yes.” He agreed after a short silence. “I recruited him, you know?” Coulson continued quietly.

“It’s not your fault.” Harry immediately assured the other man. The weight of responsibility was one Harry was familiar with. He knew too, how unreasonable guilt could be. It wasn’t Coulson’s fault that Barton had been compromised but Harry would bet his vault’s worth that Coulson still felt responsible.

Coulson’s lack of response was very telling.

“This is it.” Coulson announced as they arrived at the end of the corridor.

Harry followed Coulson onto the Bridge which was just as busy with activity despite the others absence. Agents milled around their computer screens and a low murmur of talking seemed to be a constant background buzz.

It didn’t take Harry long to spot the big blond Asgardian from before standing by the table. His arms were folded and there was a scowl on Thor’s face.

Harry separated from Coulson as the man went to get his update. Harry moved instead to stand beside Thor.

“Thor, right?” Harry said in greeting. He arched one eyebrow as eyes the colour of sky turned to gaze over at him. Even with the new height his natural form gave Harry, he was still a head shorter than the impressively tall god of thunder.

“Indeed. I am Thor Odin-son. And you are the Captain’s son.” Thor greeted with a nod.

“Call me Harry.” Harry offered his hand to the man. After only a moment of awkward hesitation, Thor reached out and clasped Harry’s hand. It was through immense self-control that Harry did not allow a wince to cloud his features at the tight grip of the god before him.

Once his hand was released, Harry turned to stand next to Thor, looking out at the busy agents before them.

“So, is this your first time on Earth?” Harry asked lightly. He ignored the somewhat hysterical laugh that seemed to echo from deep in his own mind. How had his life gotten so very strange?

Thor looked across to him, and Harry got the distinct impression he amused the larger man. “I have ventured to Midgard many times.” Thor… decreed? It certainly wasn’t how a normal person spoke.

“Uh, Midgard?” Harry repeated unsurely.

“It is what my people call your world.” Thor explained patiently. Harry nodded in understanding.

“Right.” Harry agreed. “ _Midgard_.” Harry rolled the name on his tongue. “I like it.” He decided. Thor flashed him a smile, his eyes alight with amusement. The two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence as they watched the agents bustling around them. They were joined by Phil only moments later. Harry greeted the man with a small smile. “Anything new?” Harry asked hopefully.

Phil shook his head, a tight frown turning the corner of his lips downward. “So far there’s been no sightings. But we’re hopeful. They have to turn up eventually.” Phil said and Harry got the distinct impression the man’s words were more for his own benefit than for Harry or Thor’s.

Harry clasped a hand to Phil’s shoulder. “I’m sure they will.” Harry agreed kindly.

“I must ask, son of Coul, what fate befalls my Lady Jane?” Thor asked. Harry looked to the other man in bemusement. He wondered what Thor’s home world was like. From his speech pattern alone, Harry knew Thor’s home must be very different from what they knew on Earth.

Phil gestured for Thor to follow him over to one of the many monitors in the room. Harry, for lack of anything better to do, followed and stood slightly to the side of the two men. Phil tapped at the computer for a few moments, bringing up a picture of a beautiful brunette woman.

“As soon as Loki took Selvig, we moved Jane Foster.” Phil began to explain. “We've got an excellent observatory in Traunsee. She was asked to consult there, very suddenly, yesterday. Handsome fee, private plane, very remote.” Phil looked to Thor and smiled. “She’ll be safe there.” He assured.

Harry didn’t know who Jane Foster was but from the relief on Thor’s face, he knew she was important to the god.

“Thank you.” Thor breathed sincerely. Harry watched as the amusement he’d seen flashing in Thor’s eyes before faded to be replaced by a weary solemness. “It was no accident Loki taking Eric Selvig. I dread to think what he has planned for him once he is done.” Thor announced in a tight tone.

“You mentioned he was your friend?” Harry asked.

“Indeed.” Thor agreed, glancing over toward Harry. “Eric is a good man.” He finished quietly or at least as quiet as Thor could be.

“He talks about you a lot,” Phil told Thor even as he moved away from the computer set up. Harry fell into step beside the agent as he began leading them further onto the bridge. “You changed his life. You changed everything around here.”

Thor let out a sigh as he too fell into step on Phil’s other side. “They were better as they were.” Thor announced while looking down at the ground. “We pretend on Asgard that we are more advanced but we come here battling like Bilgesnipe.”

Harry exchanged a glance with Phil and was pleased to see he wasn’t the only on confused. “Like what?” Harry asked curiously.

“Bilgesnipe.” Thor answered at once. He turned to see both Harry and Phil fixing him with confused expressions. “You know, huge, scaly, big antlers.” Thor rattled off while bringing his hands up to mimic the apparently big antlers. “You don’t have those?” Thor asked.

Harry found himself struggling to hold in an amused smile. The regal impression he’d first gotten from Thor was clearly not all there was too see of the surprisingly amusing god.

“I don’t think so.” Phil deadpanned with a small bland smile. Harry found his own smile breaking free of his control as he grinned.

“Huh.” Thor replied, taken aback. “Well, they are repulsive. And they trample everything in their path.” As he continued to speak Thor’s voice became more sombre. The blond man wandered closer to the glass overlooking the dark sky and even darker clouds. “When I first came to Earth, Loki’s rage followed me. And now again.”

Hearing the guilt in the bigger man’s voice had Harry moving closer to place a hand on his shoulder. Thor glanced over to him and Harry was surprised to see the genuine sorrow and guilt written so plainly on Thor’s face.

“You are not responsible for the actions of another.” Harry imparted solemnly. It was a lesson he himself had to learn when those closest to him were being injured in Voldemort’s attempts to get at Harry. He had been drowning in guilt right up until Ron had slapped him across the head and told him quite plainly that Harry was not responsible for Voldemort’s actions.

“I brought my brother’s wrath upon this planet.” Thor said with his voice wavering.

Harry shook his head even as he reeled at the new information. The dark haired death-eater-wannabe in holding was Thor’s brother? The two couldn’t be more different if they tried.

“Loki may be your brother, but you do not own his actions. They are his own.” Harry repeated firmly. He held Thor’s gaze until the god finally nodded his head. Doubt still lingered in Thor’s eyes but Harry didn’t expect to solve such an issue with just a few words. It would take Thor not only hearing but accepting the words before that could happen.

“Never the less, my brother will not be persuaded from his chosen course of vengeance.” Thor announced grimly. “In my youth I called it war.” Thor spat out tiredly.

“War hasn’t broken out yet.” A new voice suddenly called from overhead. Harry turned and looked up at where Director Fury stood on a walkway to the right of them. The man was staring intensely at Thor as he spoke. “You think you can make him tell us where the tesseract is?”

“I do not know. Loki’s mind is far afield. It is not just power he craves but vengeance, upon me. There’s no pain that would pry his prize from him.” Thor lamented while turning his gaze back to the clouds in front of them.

“A lot of guys think that, until the pains starts.” Fury declared as he began making his way down the steps.

Phil moved silently closer. He stood beside Harry with his arms crossed and a pinched look between his brows on his otherwise expressionless face. Harry meanwhile was watching the exchange with growing trepidation. His own arms were crossed as he glared over at Fury.

“What are you asking me to do?” Thor asked uneasily.

“I’m asking, what are you prepared to do?” Fury demanded, mere inches from Thor now.

Harry couldn’t stop himself from taking an angry step forward. “Exactly what kind of organization are you running here, Director Fury?” Harry spat.

Both Fury and Thor spun to look at him as Harry boldly forced his way into their conversation.

“Excuse me?” Fury asked, eyebrow raised.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds an awful lot like what you’re asking is whether Thor would torture his own brother for information.” Harry paused to give the man ample time to correct his statement. Fury did no such thing, instead holding Harry’s gaze with his own unwavering one. Harry felt his own face twist into a sneer. “And you’re supposed to be the good guys? Really?”

“The world isn’t split into good and evil,” Fury began to spout, looking all the world like a teacher explaining something very simple to an ignorant child. Harry didn’t give him the chance to begin his lecturing.

“No it’s not.” Harry readily agreed. “But it sure as hell is split into right and wrong. And in case you can’t tell, Director, what you’re suggesting is _wrong_!” Harry found himself taking the few steps necessary to put himself right in front of Fury.

Fury’s one good eye was twitching as he frowned angrily down at Harry. “Let me make this simple for you, Rogers. If we don’t stop Loki, then we really will be facing a war. I doubt I need to tell _you_ of all people of the civilian casualties a war will bring.” Fury’s voice got louder and angrier as he spoke. 

Unnoticed by either of the two arguing men, the chatter on the bridge had died as everyone’s attention turned to them.

“Loki is a prisoner.” Thor inputted, his arms crossed as he stood behind Harry.

“Then why do I get the impression he’s the only one who wants to be here?” Fury bit out.

“So what? You’ll torture him on a gut feeling?” Harry demanded. “You know, I knew a man like you once, he thought the end result always justified the means, too. As long as it was always for the greater good, right?” Harry argued right back. “But that’s the thing about the ‘ _greater good’_. It’s all relative to your perspective. So tell me, what makes you so sure your greater good is any better than Loki’s? Or even the hundreds of tyrants and torturers that came before you?” Harry demanded hotly.

Harry, who was used to a glare far crueler and nastier than Fury’s, held the directors gaze with his own heated glare.

Their intense stare down was interrupted by Phil, the man clearing his throat as he took a hesitant step forward.

“Director,” Phil said, waiting for Fury’s attention to turn to him before he continued. “Agent Romanoff is about to begin her interrogation, if you wanted to oversee it?” Phil offered in that mild tone of his.

Fury turned to give Harry the stink eye one last time before sweeping away with his coat billowing out dramatically behind him.

Harry for his part continued to glare at the man’s back until he felt Phil sidle up next to him.

“I’m going to finish my rounds if you still wanted to join?” Coulson offered mildly. Harry turned to his new friend and could see the wariness in the older man’s eyes.

“Of course.” Harry agreed with an incline of his head. He turned to Thor and offered the god a smile. “Would you like to join us, Thor? Phil’s giving me a tour of the place,” Harry asked. He didn’t need to be a genius to see that Phil was eager to remove him from the situation before Fury’s attention could return to their little argument.

From the strained amusement on Thor’s face, Harry thought he had figured out something similar. “Thank you for your offer, my friend. But I shall remain here and watch over my brother.” Thor decided even as he turned to frown in the direction Fury had gone.

Harry nodded and offered the man a smile before following silently beside Phil. They did not speak until they were well away from the bridge.

“You really shouldn’t push him like that.” Coulson began. Harry looked to the man to see him starring ahead. “Fury is under an immense amount of stress. And, although it may not look like it, he _is_ a good man.” Coulson told him.

Harry found his eyebrows going up. It said a lot about Fury’s character that he had a man like Phil’s loyalty. Even still.

“Well then, maybe he should act like it.” Harry stated simply.


End file.
